Mark Strand Quotes
Those Hours Given Over To Basking In The Glow Of An Imagined
future, Of Being Carried Away In Streams Of Promise By A Love Or
a Passion So Strong That One Felt Altered Forever And Convinced
that Even The Smallest Particle Of The Surrounding World Was
charged With Purpose Of Impossible Grandeur; Ah, Yes, And
one Would Look Up Into The Trees And Be Thrilled By The Wind-
loosened River Of Pale, Gold Foliage Cascading Down And By The
high, Melodious Singing Of Countless Birds; Those Moments, So
many And So Long Ago, Still Come Back, But Briefly, Like Fireflies
in The Perfumed Heat Of Summer Night.
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